


Ask not of me to Have Clarity

by musicalgirl4474



Series: Whumptober 2020 [10]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Blood Loss, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Whumptober 2020, creepiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:02:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26944873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicalgirl4474/pseuds/musicalgirl4474
Summary: Alexander has lost his (non-dominant) hand. The blood loss makes his mind a bit fuzzy, and everything else a lot more complicated.Whumptober #10They Look so Pretty when they BleedBlood Loss/Internal Bleeding/Trail of Blood
Series: Whumptober 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956718
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Ask not of me to Have Clarity

Alexander is slumped in front of Arnold when he regains consciousness, and he shivers at the autumn air on his bare chest. The redcoats had shredded his shirt to use as bindings around the stump of his arm. He wondered if they had cauterized the . . . the- the stump, or if he was going to bleed out.

“You’re awake,” Arnold grunted behind him. “Good. Hard to trade a corpse for ten officers.”

TEN?! There was no way Washington would have agreed to this.

“Look at how pale he is!” The man who had recently been named as Wilson crowed, looking joyful.

“They are so pretty when they’ve been bled a bit,” Jacobs smirked. ’Alexander hunched forward over his hand, which had been secured over his stomach. Hand? Lack of hand. He closed his eyes tightly against the swooping nausea. Instead of his hands being tied behind his back, there was rope tight around his upper arms and chest, as well as the nooses, and new ropes around his bare ankles. He took a heavy breath in and out, doing his best to breathe through the fear and pain and sheer illness. What if the wound was infected?

“You’ll be happy to know that you’ll be going back to your comrades today,” Arnold said, and Wilson laughed.

“They’ll dump you out on your own faster than you can say ‘help,’ little puppy,” he said. “And we’ll be there ready to pick you up and make you useful again. Can’t wait to feel your tightness around me again-”

“Do not antagonize our guest so close to his freedom,” Arnold chastised the man lightly. Jokingly. Alexander felt the nausea fill his throat, his mouth, but not even bile came up; he was so dehydrated, so empty of food, likely losing too much blood- would he even survive long enough for Washington to realize how broken he was and send him home? Because Wilson was right, as little as he wanted him to be. Washington would send him home, not knowing that he had no home to go to. The army was his home.

Alexander let a dry, cracked sob heave his chest just once, before settling his forehead on the horse’s neck in front of him. The animal was steady, full of energy born of food and water, and warmth of enough blood. How nice it would be, he thought vacantly, to be a horse. A horse would be put down rather than left outside of the camp to starve. Alexander wondered if he could convince Washington to just put him out of his misery, if the General thought to remove him from his military family.

He knew hunger, he knew the faces of people who died from hunger, their bloated bellies and cracked, pale tongues. A quick death by poison or knife across the throat (he would not ask that a precious bullet be wasted on him) would be much preferred.

The point, Alexander mused, was that it was unthinkable to be in the hands of the British again. At that point, he’d throw himself on the first sharp implement he could find. Why draw out the torture? 

His shivering was growing more violent, and he felt, rather than heard, Arnold laugh behind him. “Poor thing is so sensitive,” he said, putting a heavy, warm hand on Alexander’s heavily bruised bare back.

“Blood-loss is a beautiful thing, brings out the shivering child in the hardest of men,” Jacobs said, smug. “And it leads to such lovely vulnerable illnesses later too.”

“You sir, are a man of disturbingly singular abilities,” Arnold says, and Hamilton is too tired to parse if the disgust is real or for his benefit. He pulls his mind out of the moment, and allows himself to be content with the warmth of the horse’s neck beneath his forehead.

**Author's Note:**

> I . . . it's short I know. But Alex's mind is having difficulty staying conscious, and he refused to stay awake much longer, so.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed! Next one in the 'Ask Not of Me' series should be Alexander getting traded, so there won't be too much more Arnold creepiness, at least for a while. None of this is planned out. I have no idea what the characters are going to do.


End file.
